My Flame
by Ruby Youkai
Summary: A very surreal Kouji-thinking-about-Tasuki fic. Please don't hate me...it's kinda really sad...but it has a happy-ish ending...I think. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!


Sometimes he wondered what happened

My Flame Rating: PG

**Warnings: **Er…a little OOC…maybe.Oh, and shounen ai.

**Couple: **K+T (sorry Johnny!!!! *runs and hides *…er…long story. Tasuki + Miaka fan…aw, darn, now I already ruined the story. Well, it's pretty obvious anyway.)

**Other Notes: **Er…what else can I say? First romance FY fic. Very surreal. Enjoy nonetheless. It's a KoujiXTasuki. 

** **

Sometimes he wondered what happened.

It had been two long, lonely years. He had given up on questioning. Now all he did was wonder.

There was a time he didn't have to question, to wonder, or to hurt. There was a time things were simple and his heart was reassured.

Then the Fire of his soul was there, every day. To hear the steady stream of curses in the morning as his Fire awoke, to hear the soft snoring late at night. To run his fingers through hair spun out of flames. To see those beautiful, wild eyes glint with mischief. That rough voice laugh with the effects of too much sake. The stench of alcohol, and the good-natured ribbing and joking that was his flame.

And he loved it all.

And because he loved it all he let it all go.

Because of that mark on his arm. That mark that he would sometimes trace absentmindedly, the two of them sitting in solitude…just him and his Flame. And how he loved that mark, it was as much a part of his Flame as fire itself. And he also hated it, knowing that the very Suzaku-given mark will take his Flame away, and leave him in the cold. But he still loved it, because it was part of his Flame. He loved everything about his Flame.

The rough laughter, the soothing voice. The warmth, the smell of alcohol and the snoring.

His Flame.

Always will be his Flame. Even Suzaku couldn't challenge that.

The bandit closed his eyes in defeat.

But things change. He should know that. He scolded himself for not knowing that. He scolded himself…

He saw the mark he both hated and loved. He should have known.

His Flame would leave him in the cold. It wasn't meant to last forever.

But he just didn't expect it to be so soon. So terribly, terribly soon. They had come, and like the wind sweeps leaves from the branches, they had taken him away.

His Flame had left him in the cold. Before he knew it, he was left alone in the desolate cold known as life.

But he had faith that his Flame would return. Such a naive child, staring desolately out the window, wishing upon a star in the cold. Longing for his Flame, with such faith that his Flame would return.

A harsh laugh escaped cold lips. His Flame did return, in body with that stupid mark. His Flame wasn't his anymore, though. He didn't know who's it was…his Flame belonged to another. Suzaku, maybe? Another man to love? Maybe another woman? Another being…maybe his Flame now belonged to the sun, or to the wind. 

All he knew is his Flame drifted away and back again, riding on the winds of destiny. Winds which were turbulent for his Flame, because of the mark.

Silence soon overtook his world. Silence filled with obnoxious snores that challenged the peaceful solitude of the night.

The blue-haired man shook his head, chuckling wryly to himself. Why did he let himself feel like that?

He had faith in his Flame.

His Flame was just finding his way.

His Flame would return. Very soon. 

The harsh laughter, mischievous eyes, the smell of sake and constant cursing would return to him soon.

His Flame was just finding his way, looking for a place to set afire.

Little did his Flame know he had found that place long, long ago.

Inside him. Inside the scarred, blue-haired bandit his Flame whispered, danced, shone so bright.

His Flame would be here soon…and he would hold his flame close to his chest, as he did before in another lifetime…

"Come home to me." He whispered.

_

Somewhere, underneath a starry sky in a traveler's ground…a flame stirred in his peaceful sleep.


End file.
